URSABLOG: 2025? Nothing To Be Afraid Of…

English is a deceptively simple language, but sometimes the addition of words here and there – especially in British English I suspect – can change the meaning of a phrase completely. For example: “To be afraid”. It’s a fairly simple phrase, and we all know what it means. I am afraid, you are afraid, she is afraid and so on. But with the addition of one conjunction – “that” – the phrase can take on a whole new and ambiguous meaning.

“You are afraid of horses” is fairly clear. It’s clear that not only do you not like horses, you are scared of them. However, if I say “I’m afraid that you don’t like horses” is me saying that our relationship could well suffer because whilst I understand you may not like horses, it will give me some pain to discover that indeed you don’t, and in a way, and not being judgemental about it at all, I will think slightly less of you. (By the way, speaking for myself, and just to be open and honest, I am afraid of horses, snakes and rats. But I’m afraid that you will think less of me if I tell you.)

What makes it worse is that the word “that” can be optional. “I’m afraid you will think less of me…” reads just as well as “I’m afraid that you will think less of me…” and may – or may not – have the same meaning. I’m afraid that the rules of English grammar are a bit ambiguous and flexible in a way that other languages are not. But you understand that by saying that, I’m not afraid at all, in fact I’m just being a bit superior and smug, in ways that only a native English speaker – and one from England itself – can be.

The New Year has come and gone, and being bereft of resolutions except a few tired and jaded ones – I must think about stopping smoking, I must get more exercise, I must become a millionaire soon – that will remain like nagging reminders of a less than perfect life throughout the rest of the year, I am moving on to predictions and/or forecasts. I am fairly hopeless at these as well, because the future is necessarily unknown, and thankfully so, otherwise how would markets function? But I want to hedge my bets this time – not with words like “probably”, “could”, “may” and so on, but by using the word “afraid” in each of them. I will leave it to you to conclude what I really mean.

I am afraid that the freight market – in dry and wet – will not recover any time in the near future. The fall of freight rates in both sectors seems be inexorable, and determined. Is this the supply of ships finally tipping into charterers’ favour after all the disruptions – geographic and geopolitical – of the year, or is tonne demand growth falling? Or both?

I am afraid that prices for dry bulk carriers and tankers will not fall quickly enough in response to the fall in the freight markets. Sellers – most of them with no real urgency to sell, at least not yet – will not want to take much less than last done if they can help it, and Buyers will see no reason to pay more than they are comfortable with in view of the current freight markets and their immediate prospects. This does not mean that deals will not be done, but there is always a time lag between falls in the freight market and falls in prices, and only when all hope to an immediate improvement has been lost can prices correct appropriately. Or the freight markets improve. In the meantime there is little any of us can do about it.

I am afraid that the inauguration of President Donald Trump will unleash unpredictable and unintended consequences in the world. And the strange thing is, in this the strangest of times, that even though we have already experienced what President Elect Trump did in his first term, it is this very unpredictability – this time on steroids – that make the consequences unknowable. This is perhaps why he was elected.

I am afraid that these consequences will paradoxically – or not, depending on your point of view – positively affect the freight markets, in the medium term. Ok, maybe I’m being a little smug here, but the history of gumming up the free movement of trade – whoever tries it – usually means that new customers are found, and new and strange new trade routes are created. This tends to increase tonne-mile demand, in the medium term at least.

I am afraid that in the long run we are all dead anyway. John Maynard Keynes, long dead anyway, was spot on. This thought both inspires me and discomforts me. Ah well. Carpe Diem and all that.

I am afraid that my memory is not what it was. On the one hand this evidence of my gradually increasing years troubles me, and my effectiveness in dealing with all the information that the world bombards me with every day. On the other hand it’s a nice excuse to plead ignorance when I remember something only too well.

I am afraid that the past maintains a strong influence on the present. Politically, historically and to us as individuals and communities, the past – whether we remember it accurately or not – informs, restricts and inspires the present, and points us towards a specific future direction.

I am afraid that I will not do what I have set out to do this year. I am finding that as I approach my late 50’s I am torn between the cynicism of past experience and the joy of hope. I hope that hope wins.

I am afraid that I will succeed in my plans. Is it too late for a Brave New World? Have I succumbed to a personal Stockholm Syndrome where I have fallen in love with my captors: past experience and its cynicism? But I am still, it seems, determined to succeed.

I am afraid that the world is descending rapidly towards widespread conflict and war. This thought brings regret that I did not live a more fulfilling life during the period of unprecedented peace from the end of the Cold War to where we are now. But it also didn’t feel like that we were living through such a wonderful period at the time. Maybe it’s all a matter of perspective? Until it isn’t, that is.

I am afraid that by asserting its legitimate right as a superpower, China will overestimate its potency and effectiveness – and downplay its responsibility – once it tries to project its power beyond its own shores. It is one thing for the CCP to maintain its legitimacy within its own borders, but it is another thing to convince or coerce others of their rights in the international community. Might and right – call me old-fashioned if you like – are not interchangeable or reversible concepts. But that applies to everyone else as well.

I am afraid that I could go on and on, but apart from amusing myself – and revealing a few hitherto unthought of anxieties – this exercise is ultimately futile. Identifying my genuine fears is one thing, regretting in advance what may or may not happen, and putting the blame on others – passively, aggressively, or both – is not very productive.

I find that there is in all of this an expression, a desire, to be in control of myself, in life, in business, which is impossible in a world where we are at the mercy of things – events, people, relationships, circumstances – over which we have absolutely no control whatsoever. But, despite all this, I cannot consider myself just to be at the mercy of the winds of fate. This attitude – fatalism, veering towards nihilism – is also not very productive. I think that we can – almost without knowing it, or quite believing it, even when we evidently do – have a huge influence on those around us; we never really know how much our thoughts, actions and attitudes will change the world around us. We are all agents of change, part of the process, and the results of it too. No man or woman is an island, and we are not alone, however desperately we would sometimes like to be.

Fear is a perfectly reasonable – in fact instinctive – reaction to things that we are not familiar with but threaten us, and it is hardwired into us, along with most other animals, from a long way back in our evolutionary history. Whether we fight, take flight from or freeze in the face of the unknown needs a pause – if we can – to reflect on the nature of the threat and the fear we are experiencing. This power to reflect is what sets us apart – if not always above – the rest of the animal kingdom.

Ninety-two years ago, in a different era, Franklin D Roosevelt was preparing his own Inaugural Address to the American people, in the depths of depression:

“…let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

As it turned out, he had a lot to fear, and things would become a lot worse – nationally and internationally – before it got better. He did not live to see the end of the Second World War – or victory in Europe and over Japan – but the will to get over the paralysis of nameless, unreasoning and unjustified terror (and his own physical paralysis for that matter) was the foundation of a victory over the evils of totalitarianism, and the dawn of a new era of prosperity and growth. In simple English he was able to express hope, and in turn inspire a nation, and ultimately many people across the world, to act in the face of fear, to fight for right over might.

It is not surprising that sometimes we are afraid to act, and indeed doing nothing – in shipping and in life – has its place. But action is sometimes not only preferable but necessary, even when all the choices available are bad ones. I can procrastinate, delay, mess around, dissemble or simply look down at my shuffling feet in shame, but that would just be delaying the inevitable. Sometimes, I’m not afraid to tell you, we just have to get on with it, however fearful we may be. But don’t be afraid: you will only discover the lasting consequences of your actions in the long run.

Simon Ward